


The Witch is Dead!

by BumbleBooty



Series: Discord Inspired [1]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: based on a discord call, holy shit too good, i had an idea, implied Megatron/Ratchet, mentioned - Freeform, ratchet - Freeform, skids - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2019-02-10 00:35:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12900195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BumbleBooty/pseuds/BumbleBooty
Summary: Megatron has a slip of the glossa when trying to relax near his captain turned lover.





	The Witch is Dead!

**Author's Note:**

> quick little fic. have fun at school!
> 
> ding your dong broski.

Megatron watched idly as his captain groaned. Rodimus had somehow gotten himself completely flipped around in his captain's chair, allowing his pedes to rest where his helm should have been, his helm dangling off the edge of the seat. Megatron glanced back down to his datapad, content with ignoring the mech as he tried to spin faster. Primus be damned though, when the young prime wanted attention, he was near  _insufferable._

"Meeeeegs. C'mon.  _Talk to meeeeee!"_ The flame-embossed leader whined, throwing his best pout at the former warlord whenever the chair spun to face him. Without looking up, Megatron shook his helm. "If you think of a relevant topic, I would be more than inclined to 'entertain' you. Until then, try to rediscover your maturity." The pout increased as Rodimus spun around a few more times. Eventually, a continuous, loud groan joined the fairly fast spinning. 

"Do you think Swerve is going to open the bar tonight?" 

"It is probable."

"Are you going to movie night?"

"Most likely not."

"Are you reading poetry?"

"No."

"Are you  _writing_ poetry?"

"No. They are reports, if you risk expiring from the lack of knowledge."

If Megatron didn't have so much experience keeping a straight face, he would have laughed at the captain's increasingly annoyed look. The devious look that crossed next had the ex-miner mildly concerned, but the question "How good of a lay is Ratchet?" just made him roll his optics.

That one did prompt a small (absolutely 'reluctant'- not at _all_ amused) grin, and Megatron shook his helm before lowering the datapad. No point fighting a loosing battle. "And what makes you think I have interfaced with Ratchet?" Rodimus tried to give him a lewd look, but squawked when he hit his helm on the desk.  _That_ made Megatron snort a brief chuckle, leaning his helm against the chair he sat in. The injury seemed to settle his lover some, and Megatron took the time to reopen the inventory report.

There was a short, blissful reprieve from being the center of Rodimus' attentions as Skids pinged for entry. The shift report went rather quickly-even if the prime thought they were 'booooorrriiiiinng!'. Megatron found his attention diverted once more as the prime took up an abnormally annoying pastime.  He did manage to finish reading the inventory report, but the insistent sing-songing some earth tune as he resumed the previous activity of spinning around in the chair- this time, using his hands to push off the table and add to his momentum.

After three verses of listening to "Ding, Dong, the witch is dead~", the older mech felt his 'inner grandcreator' coming out. As it turns out, his younger lover still had fantastic hearing. The quiet, disgruntled mutter of "I swear, I'll ding your dong if you don't stop..." did not go unnoticed, and Rodimus burst out in obnoxious laughter. The orange mech yelped the chair overturned, spilling the captain-level contents onto the floor with a squealing laugh. 

Megatron realzed he had failed when the excited face whipped towards him, and Rodimus scrambled to a sitting position. Megatron pursed his lips, hoping he could ignore the increasingly excited mech. "Whaaaat did you just say? Are you gonna  _ding_ my _dong_? Primus Megs, if you wanted a round or five, all you had to do was ask!" Megatron barely had time to react before his lover had made his way into his lap, and as always the elder mech found it increasingly difficult to turn the flirtatious mech away.

Purposefully dull hands slid around the other's highly polished waist, trailing along the expanse of Rodimus' back as both mech became thoroughly distracted by a rather heated kiss. The only thing that returned them to semi-awareness was the sharp keen that sounded when rugged hands caressed the star-bright spoiler. It was then that Megatron decided he needed to re-evaluate his evening plans. The door locked with a chime, and Rodimus gave his lover a devious grin. "Hey Megs." 

The co-captain looked down as he trailed a thumb over the ever-flexible metal, and quirked a brow. "I may regret this, but what?" The snicker and trill of 'ding dong!' Prompted Megs to playfully push his captain back onto his desk and silence the speedster for some time.

Needless to say, the Prime was _thoroughly '_ dinged' by the time he was carried to his berth room.  


End file.
